


Plants

by minervamoon



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff without Plot, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:55:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24090004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minervamoon/pseuds/minervamoon
Summary: 500 word ficlet written for the Good Omens Events Prompt Challenges.Six weeks after the Apocalypse-that-Wasn't, Aziraphale goes to Crowley's flat.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 26
Collections: Name That Author Round One





	Plants

Aziraphale stood in front of Crowley’s door and adjusted his bowtie, a book wedged under his arm. When he started tugging on his waistcoat he made himself stop fidgeting. It was only Crowley and his flat; there was no need to be nervous. This was all just so new. Going over to Crowley’s flat, having an open invitation to Crowley’s flat. The last six weeks had been like that, one change after another. More dining out, more walks in the park, more driving in the car. More more more. 

More Crowley. 

It made Aziraphale’s head spin.

And he was loving it.

Aziraphale couldn’t deny it. He didn’t want to deny it. He loved it; he just hoped Crowley did too.

That thought nearly had Aziraphale fidgeting all over again. He took a deep breath and knocked on Crowley’s door. 

A few seconds later it opened and Crowley smiled at him. Aziraphale’s heart did a little somersault at the warm curl of the demon’s lips.

“You know you can just come in,” said Crowley, letting Aziraphale in. “No need to knock.”

“It would be rude,” said Aziraphale. “What if you were indisposed? Oh, here’s the book I mentioned.”

Crowley, who seemed as though his mind was suddenly elsewhere, shook himself and took the offered book. “ _Her Father’s Name._ Can’t believe I missed that one.”

“You were doing a great deal of napping back then,” said Aziraphale. He could have kicked himself for bringing that time up, but Crowley just nodded in agreement. 

“Right. Just let me put this away and grab my jacket, then we’ll be off,” said Crowley. “Make yourself at home.” He sauntered away down the hall. Aziraphale ran his hands over his waistcoat and locked eyes on verdant, green life. He smiled and walked over to the lush jungle of Crowley’s houseplants. 

“Hello, there,” cooed Aziraphale, stroking a leaf here, patting soil there. “You all look marvelous. You should all be proud of yourselves.” He stopped at the sight of a withering, brown leaf. The plant practically trembled at his touch. “There, there.” Aziraphale sent a tiny miracle into the plant, healing it. “All better.”

****

Crowley watched the angel dote over the plants and shook his head. He was practically glowing just from doing a kindness to vegetation. He was hopeless, and Crowley was hopelessly in love with him.

“Come on, Angel,” sighed Crowley. “Don’t want to be late.” Aziraphale beamed at him and headed for the door. Crowley dragged his heels, then pivoted to face his houseplants. 

“Oh, you liked that, didn’t you?” hissed Crowley dangerously, sliding his glasses down his nose. “It’s nice, isn’t it? Being fawned over, doted on, made much about?” The plants were shaking so much the pots were rocking. “Well, if you want to still be here the next time he comes to visit, you know what you have to do.”

With that, Crowley pushed his glasses back up and went to join his angel who was waiting by the door.


End file.
